


Welcome Home

by Braincoins



Series: Dragon Age: Schism [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: AU, Both Alistair and the Warden survived the Blight sooooo..., Dalish Warden - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Flut, Grey Wardens, Oral Sex, Queen Anora - Freeform, Riding, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Warden Alistair, Welcome Home Sex, but this is a series so wait for it, in which the author indulges herself in fluff smut and politics, well not so much that last one yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 11:36:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16196744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Braincoins/pseuds/Braincoins
Summary: Alistair shows up at Vigil's Keep unsure as to whether this is his new home or his new duty post. He has a few surprises in store.





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the first story of my Schism AU! **Most of the fics will _not_ be Explicit** , but Alistair just got home after being away from his sweetie for a while. They need some alone time together (and I felt it sets up what comes after that very nicely). **If you want to skip the sex, read until you get to "I've no intention of sending you anywhere yet" (or until you get uncomfortable) and then skip down to the break, where Alistair gets a rather rude awakening.**
> 
> We're starting a few months after the end of Awakening, though everyone (except Justice) has chosen to stick around instead of scattering to the winds. Summary of this world setup: Anora is Queen, Alistair is still a Warden, he did the Dark Ritual, Female Dalish Warden who romanced Alistair, Loghain's dead (good riddance), ...and I think that's most of the important bits.
> 
> Oh, and my headcanon in regards to Elvish is that, during the time of the Dales, the elves "recreated" the language as best they could from what scraps they had (sort of like what's been done with modern Hebrew), and that it is this language that modern Dalish have preserved and learned. I raided the DA Wikia for Elvish words; translations are in the end notes, just in case. I wanted to show that my Dalish Warden's past is still important to her, given what goes on in this fic.
> 
> **Warning:** I have _not_ played Inquisition, and I've only made it through Act 1 of DA 2 (though I know some spoilers for both of those games and some other material). THIS IS AN AU. I am picking and choosing and making everything else up. I know that's not gonna be everyone's cuppa. But if you stick around, I hope you enjoy this!  
>  =====

            To be honest, Alistair hadn’t been quite sure what to expect. He’d gotten the letter from the Warden-Commander asking him to report to Vigil’s Keep once he’d finished his “personal business.” He’d also gotten a separate letter from his lady love complaining about the nobles of Amaranthine, commenting that it was “little wonder you didn’t want to be king,” and sighing about how much she missed him and wished she could’ve gone with him to Highever to see to Duncan’s memorial. The strange thing was, of course, that both these missives were from the same person.

            He’d also heard a thing or two on the road about the battle that had ensued, and about the Warden-Commander’s decision to protect Amaranthine’s main settlement rather than hole up in the Keep and fight the darkspawn there. His chest had swelled with pride hearing that; it was exactly what he’d expected her to do, exactly what a Grey Warden _should_ do. Over and over again, Kivral proved herself fitting of the title “Hero of Ferelden” and each time she did so, he was forced to marvel all over again that she loved _him_ of all people.

            Still, the competing letters had him unsure as to what sort of reception he was likely to get. The one he _wanted_ was for her to throw herself back into his arms, to kiss her and hold her tightly, to soak in the scent and the feel of her again, to feel that sense of belonging once more. But given that she’d sent an entirely separate letter with his “orders,” as befitting the Commander of the Grey in Ferelden, he rather thought he’d have to salute and report in instead. And he understood that, he just didn’t like it.

            When it had been just the two of them on the road together during the Blight (well, just the two of them, her mabari, Sekh, and a bunch of other people), the line between Leader and Lover had been a bit… blurred. It hadn’t mattered as much when either of them could die at any moment. But now she was the leader of all the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, she was the Hero that the entire kingdom (queendom now, he supposed) looked up to, and she’d been made Arlessa of Amaranthine on top of it all. She was burdened with responsibilities and subject to the prying eyes of subordinates and the nobility. So he had prepared himself for a cold, martial welcome after the long trip from Highever.

            Vigil’s Keep was still being rebuilt after the assault. He heard his arrival being announced by the guards on the walls. When he rode in, Kiv was in the courtyard with a human man, talking over some papers he was holding as the (re)construction went on around them. She was wearing the same sort of clothing nobles tended to favor, though she was in a tunic and pants rather than the “appropriate” dress a noblewoman should have. She looked up and smiled widely at him. “Alistair! Aneth ara!” He felt his heart flop for a moment, but he just smiled in return as he dismounted. He was about to salute when he suddenly had her arms around him (as best she could: elven arms + human armor (even the lighter armor he was wearing for the long ride) meant she couldn’t entirely encircle him). He blinked and his smile widened, and he returned the hug gratefully. She hugged him for a long time, then lifted herself to her toes to be better able to kiss his cheek. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she said warmly.

            And then she was gone from his side once more and he was left cold again as she introduced him to her seneschal, Garevel, who greeted him like a soldier before calling for a servant to see to Warden Alistair’s belongings. Kiv was asking him about his trip though, so he stopped paying attention to Garevel to respond to her.

            “It went well enough. Fun chat with Teyrn Cousland. Says one of the new wardens saved him from bandits?”

            She snorted. “It was the least Nate could do, believe me. But you got the memorial set up?”

            “Yes, thanks in no small part to that rescue, honestly. That helped swing things in my favor.”

            “Did you get the funds I sent? Duncan deserves the best.”

            “Yes, yes, and the teyrn suggested a craftsman once we finally got the town council to agree to it and sign off on a location for it.”

            They stood in the courtyard talking and Alistair lost track of time until the seneschal popped up again with an apology for interrupting. “Supper is about to be served.”

            Kiv nodded her head towards the doors and said, “Come on; I’m starved.” And Alistair was, too, so he was glad to follow her, but he was still not quite sure how to deal with his odd welcome.

            All through the meal it was the same: she introduced him to the new Grey Wardens – including Oghren, of all people! – and some of the soldiers who were dining with them. She slipped Sekh treats under the table and laughed at the jokes others told. Mostly she ate and smiled and treated him as she might’ve Leliana or Zevran or Wynne or even Sten. He supposed it was better than being nothing but another warden to her in public. She was a fine commander, a good warden, and while he didn’t doubt her feelings for him, he couldn’t help wishing things could be different for the two of them. He didn’t want to have to hide how he felt in front of others. As annoying as their traveling companions could be (and as embarrassing as it was to occasionally be overheard together), at least they had accepted that he loved her and she loved him. There was no pretense of being “just friends” or “just fellow Grey Wardens”.

            After supper, she rose, nodded to the assembled, and apologized about work taking her away. She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him before Garevel led her off. Alistair was left there, wondering what to do, when a servant appeared and asked if he’d like a bath before bed. Truth be told, sleep was just about all he wanted in the world right now, but he shrugged. “I suppose I should wash the dust of the road off before bed, shouldn’t I?” The servant nodded and said she’d return when the bath was ready for him.

            Everyone else seemed ready for bed themselves and abandoned the table for their rooms. Oghren stuck around longer than anyone else, to drink more and catch up. The drunken dwarven pervert wasn’t exactly who Alistair would’ve wanted to spend time with just at the moment, but it was still nice to be around someone familiar. In typical Oghren fashion, he made some lewd comments about Alistair and the Commander “gettin’ back into the swing of things” but Alistair just pretended he didn’t understand and changed the subject. Tonight was going to be for sleeping, he assumed, and for sleeping alone. He hadn’t really expected much else to happen, but it would’ve been nice to have her next to him again. There was little point in whining about it though, and even less point in bringing that up with _Oghren_. When the servant came to lead him to his room and the promised bath, it was all he could do not to bolt from the dining hall.

            The servant led him upstairs and to the end of a hall, where a large, well-appointed room was awaiting him. “Well, it’s… it’s better than the stables, isn’t it?” The servant didn’t seem to appreciate the joke. Honestly, Alistair was a little surprised to be given such luxury, even if the furnishings were sparse and simple. Vigil’s Keep had been well-upgraded and defended prior to the darkspawn battle, but it had still suffered a great deal and was still years out from being fully back on its feet, as it were. That he had a room this large and this nice was surely the result of a Certain Someone pulling strings for him, but he felt a little guilty, wondering what the others had to make do with.

            The servant closed the doors behind her as she left him to his bath. He took the opportunity to look around as he got undressed. A large double bed, a stately armoire, worn but still warm rugs on the floor. The bath was surrounded by thick tapestries hanging from the ceiling, to help keep down the chill along with the fire in the hearth that crackled merrily. There was a desk and chair over by the window, books and papers stacked upon it near half-melted candles. His empty bags and packs had been left near the armoire; no doubt the servants had already put his things away for him. He slid into the warm water with a contented sigh. Sleep was going to be glorious, but right now, this bath was a blessing straight from the Maker Himself.

            The provided soap smelled a bit musky, and he realized, holding it to his nose, that she’d smelled much the same in that brief moment he’d had her in his arms. _Must be the same soap throughout the whole place._ He wasn’t sure if this was a reflection on Vigil’s Keep’s rather shattered status at the moment or if it was merely her pragmatism. She was nothing if not practical, after all. But he accepted it as the closest he was likely to get to her for the moment (and also as the only soap to hand) and set to washing up so that he didn’t fall asleep in the tub.

            He rinsed himself off and got out. As he toweled off, he padded around blowing out candles in preparation for sleep. He was just finishing up – drying in front of the hearth – when the door opened. His head shot up as he made sure he had the towel in front of him to protect his modesty; he assumed a servant was bringing… something? He couldn’t imagine what it would be.

            But it wasn’t a servant. “Oh, good; I was hoping you’d take a bath first.” It was hard to see her in the dim light, but she sounded amused. “No offense, love, but after all that time on the road, you weren’t exactly at your freshest.” He heard the door shut.

            He laughed in relief. “Yes, and don’t think I didn’t know it.” He tied the towel around his waist, though he wasn’t sure why he bothered doing so. Even without being able to see her too well, he knew her voice and the way she moved. It couldn’t be anyone else but Kivral, so it wasn’t as if he had to hide himself. “I’m glad to be… well, here, I guess.”

            “You can call it home, if you want.” She was re-lighting one of the candles by the bed. “I’m sometimes not sure _I_ want to, especially on the days I have to deal with those poncy, stuck up sheml- nobles,” she corrected. “But it’s the closest thing the Wardens of Ferelden have to a home at the moment, so home it is.”

            “I told you we’d have one again, someday. When we stopped traveling.”

            She sighed heavily. “Sometimes I miss traveling.” She came over and slid her arms around him, just above the towel. “And I know I’ve missed you, emma lath.”

            He smiled wider at the Elven endearment. “I’ve missed you, too.” He took a moment to card his fingers through her hair, and she exhaled contentment, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his palm. “You know, I was planning on sleeping tonight.”

            “Well, that was silly of you,” she declared, opening her eyes again and sliding her hands up to loop about his neck.

            “I’ve been riding for days!” he protested weakly as she pulled him down towards her. “I am really quite tired, you know.”

            “I know you have better stamina than that,” she whispered. “Besides, what walls we still have here are good, strong stone.”

            His eyebrows went up a little, and he licked lips that had suddenly gone dry. “Is that why I have this room? Better walls and so less chance of being overheard when you come to visit me?”

            She paused and loosened her hold on him a bit. “Visit?” She laughed. “Alistair, this is my room. I told them to bring your things here when you arrived.”

            He blinked and stood up straight, looking around the room again. The papers and books on the desk… the well-used tapers… He looked back at her. “You… you told them that…”

            She tsked a little but didn’t seem upset. She let go of him completely as she wandered about the room, unfastening her belt. “Of course I did, and Garevel knew exactly what I meant when I said it. As Warden-Commander, I don’t have the luxury of kissing you silly and dragging you off to my bed the moment you arrive, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to treat our relationship as if it’s a secret or an embarrassment. I love you. I have more duties than ever to attend to, but that does not mean my feelings for you have changed at all. Let them talk.” The pants came off next, and he enjoyed watching her bend over and bare her legs.

            “Will you feed _them_ to the darkspawn?” he teased, harkening back to the chat they’d had after their first time together.

            She groaned. “Oh, Creators give me strength, I desperately want to sometimes, especially the nobles. Besides,” she pointed out as she pulled the tunic up over her head, “do you really think we could keep this a secret with Oghren around?” He couldn’t help laughing at that, even as he watched her strip down (as best he could in what light there was). “Ah, ma vhenan, I have missed hearing you laugh.”

            “It’s been so long, I’m starting to forget what little of your language you’ve taught me.”

            “Well, I shall have to resume teaching you. You were always a quick study.” She strode up to him, now in nothing but her smallclothes, and slid her hands up his sides.

            “For you, perhaps. You clearly haven’t talked to any of my teachers back in the Chantry.” She laughed, and he bent to kiss her cheek. His hands went around to work on unfastening her brassiere, half-expecting to be stopped or postponed in the action.

            She did neither. “You were always an eager pupil with me, but then I suppose I wasn’t lecturing you on the service you must render to an absent god.” The lacy little scrap of cloth that was her bra fluttered to the floor.

            “Listening to lectures was never my strong suit anyway. I always did prefer practice to theory,” he pointed out. She smirked a little and leaned in to kiss him finally and fully on the lips. He wrapped his arms around her to hold her there against him, immediately deepening the kiss. She didn’t protest, hands moving to the only thing he was wearing. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d wanted to sleep, but the road weariness dropped away as quickly as the towel from his waist.

            She broke for air, and he didn’t hesitate to bend and scoop her up, the better to carry her to his… no, her… no, _their_ bed, and he smiled widely at the thought of that. “An actual bed for the two of us,” he marveled aloud.

            He lowered her to the covers reverentially, but she wasn’t about to let go of him, attempting to tug him down in her wake. “You’ll have lots of time to get used to it,” she assured him. “I’ve no intention of sending you anywhere for a while yet.”

            “Oh?” He climbed onto the bed next to her and started kissing her shoulder as it was the first part of her his eyes fell upon.

            “You can’t leave,” she insisted as he made his way over to her neck, “You’re needed here.” She let out a ragged breath before adding, “Badly.”

            “How badly?” he asked against her skin.

            She growled slightly at the back of her throat. “Let me put it this way, ma vhenan: we’ll have lots of time to savor each other some other night.”

            He pushed himself up to look at her as his eyebrows shot up. “ _That_ badly? Huh. And here I thought I missed you more than you missed me.”

            “Why would you think that?” She sounded almost insulted.

            “Well, you were busy rebuilding the order, slaying darkspawn, and protecting the innocent,” he said, contenting himself with kissing more of her neck since she was still insistent on talking. “I had nothing to do but argue with Highever officials about ‘zoning’ and dream of being with you.”

            “I missed you in battle as well as in bed,” she informed him, hand toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m used to having you always at my side. Fighting without you makes me feel naked.”

            “So because you had to fight as well as go to bed alone, you missed me more, is that it?” He stroked her skin, watching his hand go down from her shoulder, over a breast (just “accidentally” running a thumb over her nipple, which earned him a quick, delighted shudder), down past battle scars both old and new to her hip.

            “Exactly,” she declared. “And I missed you for other reasons as well.”

            “Such as?” he asked, starting to tug her panties off.

            She smirked a little as she lifted her hips to help him with the task. “I missed your smile. Your laugh. Your voice and the sassy little comments you’re so fond of making.” He chuckled at that.

            “See? And you said I wasn’t funny.” He was enjoying pulling this last item of clothing down along her legs.

            “Being a smart-arse isn’t the same as being funny.” But she dropped it to continue her list. “I’ve missed the heat of you near me, even if we’re just standing together in public. I feel so warm, so safe with you at my back. I’ve been cold and alone for far too long.” He tossed the panties to the floor. “I’ve missed hugging you, holding your hand, talking about the day with you.”

            “What else?” he asked, moving back up to resume kissing her neck… then her collarbone…

            She exhaled happily and smoothed her hands over his scarred back. “The feel of your skin next to mine,” she declared. He caressed one of her breasts, more deliberately this time, and she added, “The feel of those sword-calloused hands on me.” She arched a little as his lips and tongue arrived at her other breast, and she had to pause to catch a bit more breath before she could use it for speech. “The… the particular flavor of joy that comes across your face when you can see how much I want you.”

            “’Particular flavor of joy’?” he asked, without lifting his head. His hand was leading the way down one side even as he kissed his way over to the other breast. Wouldn’t do to pay more attention to one than the other, after all.

            “Mmm. It… I don’t know how to… it’s happiness but also this… glee, and passion, and desire… it’s this mix of emotions I can see in your eyes, in the quirk of your lips… I love seeing you happy, but seeing you want me like that is...”

            “Is?” he prompted, enjoying her words almost as much as her skin. She was trembling beneath him as he stroked one of her thighs and he gave her belly button a quick lick before continuing down her body.

            Her breath was shuddering as well, and it took her a moment before she could answer, “It makes me want you more. Makes me _need_ you.” She cried out for a moment when his tongue found another, more sensitive, target, down between her legs, and then she bit her lip a little to try to keep herself quiet.

            “I thought you said the walls were strong stone,” he commented.

            She was panting faintly. “Force of habit.” She turned her head as she moaned again. “Ah, evanuris, ar lath ma…” She was already babbling in Elven.

            “You must really have missed me,” he said smugly.

            She started to respond in Elven again before catching herself and correcting. “Yes, my love, of course I did.”

            “Thank you, but I meant that… Well, it usually takes you longer to forget the common tongue.”

            “I’d nearly forgotten yours,” she said instead. He laughed and surged back up to kiss her again. She held him there for a long time, hands either side of his face, and so he changed his intentions for the moment. She gave a little start when she felt his fingers slip into her, and all but purred as his thumb rubbed in just the right spot. “That’s… ah, gods…” She pushed herself against his hand.

            It was getting harder to keep himself in check, but, Maker, feeling her writhe around his hand, everything hot and slick between her legs; watching her lick her lips and scrape for breath... that it was all because of him was intoxicating, almost addictive. The feeling of it especially: he could have (and had) dreamt up a hundred different scenarios for when they were finally together again, but to touch her and kiss her and know this time was **real** made all the difference.

            “I’ve missed the feel of you within me,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. Whether that was still force of habit or not no longer mattered to him. “Filling me to completion as no one else ever has or could.” She moaned before continuing, “Like you were meant to fit inside me, and like I was meant for you.” He couldn’t help groaning and closing his eyes, and his hand fumbled as his brain tried to keep up with her ardent words.

            “Alistair,” she practically whimpered, and he could wait no longer.

            His eyes flew open. He pulled his hand away and leaned down over her again, pulling her close to him. In their first few times together, there had been a certain fumbling aspect to this moment: alignment of bodies and arrangement of limbs. But apparently all their time apart had not diminished their bodies’ memories of each other. She spread her legs, lifting her hips just so. He moved back just enough, and he didn’t even have to drop his eyes from her face to press into her in one swift, fluid motion. She arched her back, her hands falling to his hips.

            It truly was like coming home, and not just because of how good it felt to be inside her again, her fingers gripping at his skin, and her breath coming hot and hard along with what syllables of his name she could manage. This was all _real_ , not his own sweaty fantasies in some far-off Highever inn. He was quickly remembering Elven, because it was all she could speak now: a long, rambled string of “emma lath”s and “ma vhenan”s, interspersed with increasingly louder moans.

            It took time to fully sheathe himself in her. She was so tight around him, but also just as dedicated as he was to getting him in as deep as she could. They always did work well together. He leaned down to groan her name against her ear as he pulsed his hips in and out of her, reaching a hand back to caress a thigh that was skimming along his side. He loved being able to feel as much of her as he could, reveled in touching her bare skin, feeling it pressed against his own.

            She pushed to roll them over and he allowed it, watching her ride him in the wan candlelight, her head thrown back, red hair trailing in sweaty tendrils. It was her turn to lean down now, kissing him hard enough that he might have to ask that mage with the cat if he had any healing spells come the morrow. She broke to suck in more air, lips still brushing against his, and he could feel the already-tight heat of her begin to coil. _Good to know I’m not the only one who can’t last long tonight_ , he thought, though it was more of the sensation of relief than the actual words, because her name was the only word he felt he had left to him anymore.

            He thrust harder into her, holding her in place by her hips. She sat back up, hands on his chest, looking down at him, holding his gaze with her own until she arched again, dropping her head back and letting an ecstatic cry burst out of her throat. He took advantage of the moment to roll them back over – it was easier this way, and he was already on the ragged edge of what was left of his energy – before his own climax overtook him. She didn’t mind, or didn’t seem to anyway; she was smiling as she laid there, eyes closed, soaking in that golden bliss that came after all the passion was spent.

            He hit the bed face down, half atop of her, and she laughed a little as he laid there helpless. She didn’t try to move him though, not yet. He turned his face to breathe, and she just let him lay there as she scraped up her own breath again. There were no more words, and no need for them. For all her talk of how badly she wanted him, they were both tired. He eventually pushed himself off – and out – of her. She pinched out the candle (ever the practical one), slithered underneath the covers – they never had bothered to turn them down – and he found the last dregs of his mobility in order to follow her example. She spooned herself up next to him; he draped an arm over her and kissed her shoulder before sleep crashed in on him. The last thing he remembered was hearing her sigh contentedly.

 

 

            He wasn’t entirely sure what the words were that woke him the next morning; all he was aware of was a loud SCREECH of what sounded like some sort of angry bird. It jolted him awake and he instinctively tried to find his sword or at least his shield.

            Kivral was sitting up already, covers pressed to her front as she confronted the intruder. “VELANNA! GARAS QUENATHRA?!”

            The Dalish elf mage was in their room ( _their room_ , he still loved that phrase, despite the adrenaline jagging its way through his veins), staring at the two of them with something akin to either disgust or outrage. Probably both. She hadn’t seemed terribly fond of him at supper the night before, but she just hadn’t said much at all to him during the meal, and he’d left it at that.

            More problematically, the loud noise was gathering a crowd, including their new fellows in the order, who were beginning to fill the doorway. The mage with the cat – Anders? – and Nathaniel were there, as well as that dwarf girl, Sigrun. Sekh had wandered in at some point and curled up on the floor at the foot of the bed; only the mabari’s ears were visible from where Alistair was sitting.

            Velanna was spitting words out from between her teeth. “You… you _dare_ shame our people like this?”

            “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Velanna…” Alistair was surprised to hear her swear, though it was more of an annoyed exhalation than anything approaching vehemence. Her dropping her head into one hand only underscored that fact.

            But the other elf woman wasn’t done. “WITH A SHEMLEN, OF ALL THINGS?! Have you no pride?! You spread your legs for some sweaty shem and dare call yourself Dalish?!”

            It was the love of Alistair’s life who had facepalmed, but it was the Warden-Commander of Ferelden who snapped her head back up and barked, “Your mistake is in thinking me Dalish.”

            Velanna froze, eyes widening in betrayal.

            Garevel showed up, tying his robe shut over his nightclothes as he pushed his way through the crowd. “Apologies, Commander. I’ll clear all these voyeurs out…”

            “No. Let them stay. They need to hear this.” He blinked, but just nodded and backed away again. She turned her eyes back to Velanna. “I am no more Dalish than you are.” The mage bristled at that, but she didn’t get a chance to speak again. “I am no more Dalish than Alistair is human, than Sigrun is a dwarf.”

            “You’re making no sense!” Velanna snapped at her.

            “Sigrun understands, I’m sure. Probably better than any of you here.” Sigrun thought a moment, and then nodded. And left. No one moved to stop her. “I am _from_ the Dalish, but I am no longer _of_ the Dalish. I was born to the Sabrae clan, but I am not one of them any longer.” She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, and despite being stark naked beneath the clutched bedclothes, she might as well have been in full armor with her sword and dagger in her hands once more.

            “I am a Grey Warden, Velanna, as you are now, as Anders and Nathaniel and Sigrun and Oghren are. As Alistair is, and was even before me. I will always respect and honor the past from which I come, but it _is_ the past. I will be a Grey Warden until I go to the Deep Roads to meet my end. That is my present and my future. There is nothing else.

            “The Grey Wardens are our clan and family now.”

            Velanna snorted derisively. “So are we next to catch you bedding that drunken dwarven pervert?”

            “No,” she replied calmly. “Oghren is a friend, and a friend only. I love Alistair.” It made his face heat to hear her announce that to them all like this. “He and I have been through blood and death together. He was at my side when Urthemiel was slain and the Blight ended. All the deeds ascribed to me as ‘The Hero of Ferelden’ could not have been done without him. He is my closest friend and the man I love.

            “You don’t have to like it, Velanna, but you do have to respect it. This is _my_ life and _my_ choice. As Grey Wardens, we have precious little of either. I will die in battle with the darkspawn someday, and I will take what happiness I can have in what’s left of my life. I suggest you do the same.” Alistair watched Nathaniel Howe turn and leave at that. His eyes flicked back to Velanna, and she seemed to have noticed the same motion, but her distraction from the matter at hand was brief.

            “And perhaps, in the future, you lot should _knock_ and wait to be bid entry before barging into my room?” Kiv finished with wry annoyance.

            “To be fair, you’ve never minded before,” Anders pointed out timidly from the doorway, petting the orange kitten in his hands.

            She sighed. “I did mind, actually, I just didn’t say anything, which was my own fault.”

            “How was I to… to even _suspect_ you’d have a shem in your bed?!” Velanna protested.

            “I have another Grey Warden in my bed,” she reminded her sternly before answering the actual question. “And what did you expect me to do, make an announcement? My private life is _private_ , Velanna. I am not ashamed of loving Alistair, even if you think I should be, but I have no obligation to tell everyone that he’s my lover. Of course, now I guess the entire Keep knows, so that shouldn’t be a problem going forward, at any rate. Now then,” and Alistair watched her ease down out of battle mode into something more… secretarial? Administrative? It wasn’t a posture or tone he was used to hearing out of her, and he thought he’d heard them all. “What can I help you with this morning?”

            Velanna just stammered a bit and then stormed out. Anders glanced between her and the Warden-Commander, cleared his throat, and shut the door, leaving them alone again. It wasn’t until the latch clicked that she released her iron grip on the bedclothes and fell back to the mattress again. “Fenedhis lasa, that one...”

            “Did you really mean all that?” he asked, easing down onto his side to look at her.

            She rolled her head towards him. “Of course I did. It’s been true since the Joining, after all; perhaps even before then, since Tamlen touched the mirror.” He rubbed her shoulder, knowing that the loss of her best friend still hurt her, even after all this time. “I told you that in Lothering, didn’t I? The Grey Wardens – and you especially – are my home now. Vigil’s Keep may provide us strong stone walls and warm hearths, but the Wardens are my clan, my family, and my home, now until the day that I die.”

            “I just… didn’t know you felt so strongly about it. And what was that bit with Sigrun?”

            “Didn’t I tell you?” He shook his head. “She was part of the Legion of the Dead.”

            “The Legion?! Really?!”

            “She knows what it is to sacrifice clan and family for a greater good. She’s used to thinking of herself as already dead, after all; thinking of herself as a Warden first and a dwarf as a distant second is hardly something new for her.”

            “And you wanted the rest of them to hear you say that.” She nodded, and he smiled warmly. “Duncan would be so proud of you right now.”

            “Do you really think so?” she asked, and he could tell that it worried her. He bent to kiss her softly.

            “I really think so. Like I could lie to you about anything, let alone something like that.”

            She beamed, and he bent to kiss her again. She slid her hands into his hair and he ran one up along her side until there was a knock on the door. “M’lady,” Garevel’s voice said from the other side, “the nobles are starting to arrive.”

            She groaned. “Can’t you tell them I’m sick and having a lie-in today?”

            “I… could, but the news of this little scene is going to be buzzing through the Keep today no matter what I do. I don’t think they’ll believe me.”

            “Ugh, fine, fine.” She looked over at Alistair. “Duty calls.”

            “Go on.” He gave her a longer kiss, to try to strengthen her for the day ahead. “I’ll be around if you need me, beloved.”

            “Ar lath ma, Alistair,” she whispered fervently. “And thank you. Actually, there is something you could do for me today,” as she sat up and tossed the covers aside.

            “I am, as ever, at your service.”

            “Take Sekh for a walk, will you? He keeps bothering Ser Pounce-A-Lot and with the rebuilding and these backstabbing nobles around…”

            He sighed. “You do know I spent all day yesterday – and a great many days before – riding, right?”

            “Good, you could use the walk yourself then. Sekh?” The mabari’s ears perked up and he looked to her as she padded around collecting her clothes to get dressed. “Take Alistair for a nice long walk today, will you?” He barked and wagged his tail in response.

            Alistair just flopped down against the bed to stare up at the ceiling and comment sarcastically, “Oh, it’s so _good_ to be home.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **  
> **  
> Elven Language Notes:  
>  **Ar lath ma:** I love you  
>  **Aneth ara:** A greeting, usually not used with those not Dalish  
>  **Emma lath:** My love  
>  **Evanuris:** technically “mage leaders”; the elven word for their gods  
>  **Fenedhis lasa:** undefined common curse  
>  **Garas quenathra:** Why are you here?  
>  **Ma vhenan:** My heart  
>  **Shemlen:** Human (literally “quick child”)


End file.
